(This post is a bit borderline, I’m not too sure whether to publish it or not but I’ll give it a try anyway. As a disclaimer please understand that perception is subjective and that I may just be delusional. If my life does not look very Christian, then I'm also a hypocrite on my own terms)
In the past few days the spiritual stuff has reached a standstill. I’m not going to mass; I’m dissatisfied with the theology books; if my flatmate starts playing Allegri in the TV room while working on her thesis I just leave the place. Prayer is reduced to an inarticulate plea for mercy. Even getting on my knees feels incredibly presumptuous. How dare I address God? So prayer is just a recurrent supplication which I almost repress, something that pops up in my mind but which I dare not formalise.
But the weird thing is how incredibly tangible God is in those times. It’s scary and I've written about this before. I really hate this state of affairs; I really hate feeling so lame. I’m really scared that I will never amount to anything. I’m scared that my life will be a series of renouncements. I’m scared that I’ll never answer God’s call and that I’ll be a hypocrite forever. I’m scared that God won’t walk me out of this. And I just hang my head in shame.
And boy, is it crazy… suddenly God is everywhere. I’m still feeling useless but God is so real that I wonder why He’s overriding my free will by just turning up. An hour ago, there was this Love just bubbling up and I was so surprised and excited that I wanted to weep and hug my flatmates –but since I can’t really do that I tried to convey it with a smile instead-.
All this turns me into even more of a rascal, I guess, because I really can’t say that I did not know. I did. It was undeniable. And I’m scared that I’ll still manage to live a life of mediocrity and indifference despite this. I’m so scared of it. And God keeps shouting “I love you, I love you, I love you” –a plural you-. And I can hear it. I'm scared and pathetically grateful. God have mercy on us.
In the past few days the spiritual stuff has reached a standstill. I’m not going to mass; I’m dissatisfied with the theology books; if my flatmate starts playing Allegri in the TV room while working on her thesis I just leave the place. Prayer is reduced to an inarticulate plea for mercy. Even getting on my knees feels incredibly presumptuous. How dare I address God? So prayer is just a recurrent supplication which I almost repress, something that pops up in my mind but which I dare not formalise.
But the weird thing is how incredibly tangible God is in those times. It’s scary and I've written about this before. I really hate this state of affairs; I really hate feeling so lame. I’m really scared that I will never amount to anything. I’m scared that my life will be a series of renouncements. I’m scared that I’ll never answer God’s call and that I’ll be a hypocrite forever. I’m scared that God won’t walk me out of this. And I just hang my head in shame.
And boy, is it crazy… suddenly God is everywhere. I’m still feeling useless but God is so real that I wonder why He’s overriding my free will by just turning up. An hour ago, there was this Love just bubbling up and I was so surprised and excited that I wanted to weep and hug my flatmates –but since I can’t really do that I tried to convey it with a smile instead-.
All this turns me into even more of a rascal, I guess, because I really can’t say that I did not know. I did. It was undeniable. And I’m scared that I’ll still manage to live a life of mediocrity and indifference despite this. I’m so scared of it. And God keeps shouting “I love you, I love you, I love you” –a plural you-. And I can hear it. I'm scared and pathetically grateful. God have mercy on us.
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"Three times I pleaded with the Lord about this, that it should leave me. But he said to me, 'My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.' Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me."
(2Co. 12:8-9)
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